


Miss Jacqueline Regrets

by StarMaamMke



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Season 8 fix it if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMaamMke/pseuds/StarMaamMke
Summary: The Regency AU absolutely no one asked for. Heavily influenced by works such as 'Persuasion', 'Emma', and 'Wuthering Heights'."Miss Jacqueline Burkhart, vain, clever, and rich, had lived nearly nineteen years with very little to vex her. Certainly, her mother was flighty, absent, and - according to some sources - vulgar, but she had a doting father, a large, well-staffed home, a first-rate education, and many admirers to distract and shield the charming girl from any unpleasantness."Until her father loses their fortune, and her mother destroys their reputation. Jacqueline is now dependent on the kindness of her uncle, and tasked with refining her cousin Donna. Former and current suitors pop out of the woodwork to vex the previously unstressed heiress.No Beta, we post like fools.
Relationships: Eric Forman/Donna Pinciotti, Jackie Burkhart/Fez, Jackie Burkhart/Michael Kelso, Jackie Burkhart/Steven Hyde, steve - Relationship
Comments: 37
Kudos: 40





	1. To begin

Miss Jacqueline Burkhart, vain, clever, and rich, had lived nearly nineteen years with very little to vex her. Certainly, her mother was flighty, absent, and - according to some sources - vulgar, but she had a doting father, a large, well-staffed home, a first-rate education, and many admirers to distract and shield the charming girl from any unpleasantness.

On the eve of her nineteenth year, several things came to light at once. Primarily, that her father was a bit of a wastrel, and a swindler; secondly, perhaps a consequence of the first, she had no fortune to speak of. As a direct consequence of the first and second, Jacqueline's mother fled to Majorca with a high-ranking officer of the British Navy, and her father was imprisoned. Jacqueline was taken in by the husband of her mother's deceased sister, Sir Robert Pinch. 

Sir Robert was a man of newly acquired means, who had recalled Jacqueline's elegant, and rather metropolitan airs at the previous year's Christmas Ball, and felt she would be a suitable companion for his daughter, Donna, who suffered greatly from her lack of maternal figure. Jacqueline found the girl to be coarse, tall, and plain, but had little option but to accept the offer. Sir Robert purchased the last remaining Burkhart home, which stood in _____shire, and let it to a foreign Count in order to generate some income for Jacqueline. This was a kindness that tasted bitter on the young girl's tongue. 

Jacqueline did not consider herself to be ungrateful, but she had overheard Sir Robert discuss the arrangement with Mr. Forman, who owned a neighboring farm. The two men's properties were separated by a lane, and they often shared confidences with one another. Jacqueline had been gathering wildflowers in the field, shielded by tall grass as the two men discussed her future.

"If I may speak plainly, you are a damn fool, Sir Robert."

"Come, sir; the girl is quite alone in this world, and very much an innocent. The choices of her parents are not her own."

"Her dalliance with Colonel Kelso last Summer seemed to be of her own volition."

"There was nothing to that. Nothing at all. I pray your ward has been enough of a gentleman to not perpetuate those rumours, even if he does consider himself to be an injured party."

"Compose yourself, man. Young Steven has been quite too busy acquainting himself with the Duke of Barnett to bother with stuff and nonsense, though I am quite sure Miss Burkhart is quite regretting her decision to throw him over now. Ten thousand a year is nothing for her to sniff at."

"T'was my brother-in-law's decision, and not her own. I will ask that you cease with your slander of the poor girl."

"I shall, but you must admit that you are being overly generous. A roof over her head, and some pin money would have been more than she could have possibly expected."

"An income may help salvage her prospects."

Jacqueline stooped low to the ground, her pretty complexion burning from the shame that washed over her slender frame. The untamed beast in her heart longed to beat the two men about the head and shoulders with a fistful of daisies. She wondered if she had accumulated enough money to run off to the Continent, or London, or even Bath. 

"Prospects? The best she can hope for is to use her French education to become a governess, at the most dire, a mistress."

Jacqueline had heard quite enough. She sprang from her hiding place, picked up her skirts, and sprinted across the field, towards Sir Robert's manor house, quite uncaring if the two men spied her flight.

Jacqueline entered the home through the back, and stormed through the kitchens in high dudgeon, quite ignoring the bewildered expression on both the cook and the scullery maid's faces.

Once in the safety of her small, but comfortable rooms, she glanced in her looking glass and blanched. Her dark hair was askew from its coif, as was her bonnet; the hem of her skirts were heavy with mud, and the bodice of her spencer was missing a button.

"Blast." She felt no shame at her exclamation, for there was no one to hear. With a sigh, she rang for the maid, and began to select a gown for dinner.

Her good humor returned shortly after the maid began to brush through her hair. Pamela always showered Jacqueline with the warmest compliments, and nothing calmed the girl quite like being assured of her handsomeness. Pamela was quite accustomed to being dismissed by Miss Donna, who preferred to style her own hair, and Jacqueline always rewarded diligence with high praise, though some of the praise was expressed in French, a language Pamela did not understand.

  
  


" _ Magnifique _ ! Pamela, you are quite the artist."

"Thank you kindly, Miss."

"What are they saying downstairs today? Any news?"

"I am afeared you won't like it, Miss."

"Tell."

"The Duke of Barnett is returning from Bath for the season."

"Gentlemen will hunt."

"They say he will be accompanied by his daughter."

"Lady Angela is a constant companion to her father."

"They say his bas- his natural son will accompany them both."

"That is not unusual. Mr. Hyde has made himself indispensable to his father."

"They say they will be bringing a large party with them."

"That means a ball. Miss Pinch could benefit from the social scene."

"They say Mr. Hyde is bringing along his betrothed."

"Pamela, one of my curls has gone flat."

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. The Lady and the Bluestocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is slowly revealed.

"Excellent potatoes." Sir Robert Pinch muttered enthusiastically, to no one in particular, as he dined with his daughter and niece. Miss Pinch murmured in agreement from her end of the table, whilst poring over a slender novel. Jacqueline sighed, not finding anything of note to remark upon; the potatoes were acceptable, savory as they ought, the conversation was interminably dull. Sir Robert would not meet her gaze, which informed Jacqueline that her flight had not gone unnoticed.

"You are squinting, Miss Pinch." 

"Ah."

"Perhaps one ought to save reading for the proper sort of candlelight, and devote some time to conversation."

Miss Pinch set her novel aside, and gave Jacqueline a rather tight, expectant smile. 

"What ought we discuss, Miss Jacqueline?" 

"Perhaps the new tenant at Beulah Park?"

Sir Robert looked up from his roast with an amiable smile.

"Foreign chappie," the man declared.

"From?" 

"Some Eastern castle, I imagine. Has a 'vania' in it. How did you find him, Donna? You brought over some of Cook's meat pies. Was he very handsome?"

"He was not difficult to look at, Papa. Dark, I suppose. Not in spirit, but in complexion. I found him perfectly amiable." 

Sir Robert laughed heartily at this report.

"No wife to speak of, girls. One could do worse than a Count, I daresay. Happy hunting."

Miss Pinch had the temerity to give a derisive snort. Jacqueline schooled her features, though her heart raced ever-so-slightly at the prospect. She allowed herself to blush, which sent Sir Robert into another fit of merriment. 

"I hear the Duke of Barnett has returned for the season."

"I heard something of the sort as well, Donna, from Mr. Forman the elder."

Jacqueline took note of how Miss Pinch's cheeks colored. 

"I wonder if Mr. Forman the younger will join the incoming party. The quaint little school that employs him is on the journey from Bath, is it not?" 

"Yes, Miss Jacqueline, I imagine his presence is quite a possibility. He being so well-regarded by the Duke's son."

Miss Pinch resumed her reading, and the dining hall fell into silence, until Cook brought out dessert (plum pudding), which sent Sir Robert into raptures.

After dinner, Jacqueline sat at the pianoforte and played quite beautifully, albeit mournfully, as Miss Pinch took her novel to a divan, and Sir Robert retreated for brandy and cigars. 

"I imagine you will want to sit out for the season." 

Jacqueline's fingers stilled over the keys as she pondered Miss Pinch's statement. 

"My dearest Miss Pinch, why on earth would you imagine such a thing?"

"Mr. Hyde is among the party."

"That is of very little consequence. There will be many young men."

"The regiment will be encamping in the village as well."

"A great deal more young men than I thought."

"I would not mind if we both refrained from festivities for the time being. I've grown quite accustomed to the quiet."

Jacqueline vacated her seat and began pacing the room, her bearing serene despite her twisting hands. 

"Nonsense. Our absence would be noted, and you are a full year older than I. Missing a season would be damaging, I should say."

"How so? I shall never marry. I have no need of such an institution."

"My dear, you forget your poor companion. I have quite a need of it!"

Miss Pinch made space for Jacqueline on the divan, and held out one arm for her friend, who now appeared quite pale and vulnerable. Jacqueline accepted the invitation.

"It will take bravery, my dear, but if you would face Mr. Hyde and his betrothed, I will stand with you."

Jacqueline's chest felt tight and heavy. She broke into a paroxysm of grief against her companion's shoulder. The tension over dinner was forgotten, and the two held tight to one another. 

"There, my dear. There is no need to carry on so. Count Felea may find you very charming."

"Was he very good-looking?"

"I told you and Papa the truth. I merely omitted that he is also a bit lecherous."

Jacqueline pulled away, her face alight with astonishment and concern for her friend.

"I assure you, nothing untoward happened. He is a dandy, a fop, and very liberal with his words. Nothing more." 

"He talks?"

"Excessively. You would not be able to get a word in, my dear. Perhaps he is not for you after all."

"Perhaps not. I cannot bear a man who would stifle me."

"He is a veritable peacock. I've never seen such a cravat in my life."

"Colonel Kelso was ridiculously decorated."

Miss Pinch gave a short laugh.

"Indeed, though I am shocked to hear you mention him. He is quite a source of pain for you, is he not?"

Jacqueline's gaze fell to her lap, where her gloved fingers were interlaced in an anxious tangle. 

"His conduct last year was unpardonable, and he cost me great happiness. Many will say I am not at all blameless."

"Pray do not go on if it pains you so."

"I must be brave, mustn't I? 

"I would not blame you if you faltered a bit. Only do not show it. Some people enjoy feeding on shows of weakness."

"People like Mr. Forman the Elder."

Jacqueline tearfully revealed what she had overheard in the field earlier, and expressed her outrage at the two choices the man had envisioned for her.

"A farmer, of all people! My father would have had him horse-whipped for such insolence."

"The old and infirm are given leave to be very free with their opinions, particularly when there appears to be no ladies present. Do not take it to heart."

Jacqueline stood with a watery chuckle, as she dashed the tears from her eyes.

"You were very fortunate indeed to avoid a permanent association with that family."

"Miss Jacqueline, that is unkind. Mrs. Forman is loveliness in itself, and she has doted on you since you were a babe."

"I will grant that she is kindness personified. Poor woman. What a hardship it must be, to become a farmer's wife."

"Becoming a wife is a needless ordeal, no matter where one lands."

"You are determined to be quite a spinster."

"Only so that I may devote my time into turning your children into ill-tempered bluestockings. I insist they be all be named Wollstonecraft."

The two companions laughed heartily at the jest before Miss Pinch returned to her novel, and Jacqueline to her pianoforte. The tune she played was lively, exceedingly French, and Sir Robert remarked on both facts as he entered the room, his face red and jolly with drink.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Miss Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ribbons and rivals.

"I do believe they are the same ribbon."

"Darling, no. This one is clearly turquoise, and the other cornflower."

Miss Pinch tried very hard to not appear vexed as Jacqueline tugged at one of her errant bronze curls, weaving one of the ribbons around it. 

"I've plenty of ribbons at home," Miss Pinch protested. Her cheeks grew warm, and she felt very scrutinized indeed. 

"None blue, which is a shame, since it is clearly your color, is it not, Miss Adaline?"

The young, lively girl behind the counter of Point Notions nodded enthusiastically. 

"Oh yes, Miss Jacqueline; particularly the turquoise!"

Jacqueline tutted as she regarded Miss Adaline's preference. 

"If only we had sapphire."

"A bit too dear this month."

Jacqueline shrugged and smiled winningly at her tall friend.

"Miss Pinch, what say you?" 

"The turquoise, if it will stop you from pawing at me so."

"The turquoise, Miss Adaline."

"We've just happened upon a decent supply of lace, Miss."

"No lace!" Miss Pinch interjected. "Please. We need only the ribbons and the peppermint for Papa."

Jacqueline sighed as her gaze settled on a new shipment of cream silk. Her old gowns would have to do for the upcoming social season. A few adjustments would make them like new, she supposed, but how becoming she would appear in cream silk, with an overlay of lace…

Her reverie was interrupted by a dainty jingle of bells as Lady Angela entered, accompanied by a tall, buxom girl with yellow hair. Jacqueline felt for a moment as though her stays were a bit too tight. Lady Angela spied Jacqueline and Miss Pinch straight away. Her smile was luminous as she approached, arm-in-arm with the woman Jacqueline suspected was Mr. Hyde's betrothed.

Introductions were made in a rush of natural camaraderie. Miss Samantha Smith was indeed engaged to be married to Mr. Hyde. She hailed from Hull, and she made no disguise of her heavy, laborious way of speaking; a feminine version of Mr. Hyde's rough, Northern drawl.

"Count Felea made introductions straight away, and we are to attend a gatherin' this Friday! Ain't it grand?"

Jacqueline and Miss Pinch exchanged a quick glance at Miss Smith's enthusiasm. Miss Pinch's eyes contained a warning that Jacqueline fought to heed as she carefully pondered her next words.

"I should say. Count Felea's home is very grand indeed. Miss Pinch and I have also received a similar invitation, and we very much look forward to attending. Is that not right, Miss Pinch."

"Indeed. I could not think of a better way to spend an evening." 

Miss Smith had the unfortunate habit of snorting when she giggled. Lady Angela excused herself to study the cream silk that had previously caught Jacqueline's eye.

"I hope I don't disgrace no one wie my country ways."

"Nonsense. This is a country village, and it will be a country dance, no matter how grand the setting. I daresay you will be just as comfortable here as you would some little fete in Hull."

"I suppose you'd be right, Miss Jacqueline."

The ladies parted, and Miss Pinch paid for her purchases. Jacqueline impulsively ordered several yards of the new lace, sight unseen, as well as a new pair of gloves, some pieces of crimson ribbon, and a bundle of silk flowers. The cost was very dear indeed, but the acquisition soothed her soul, somewhat.

"Oh, she is impertinence herself!" Jacqueline raged as she and Miss Pinch made their way back to Sir Robert's homestead. The two had eschewed a carriage, due to the fair weather, but some unexpected clouds were beginning to gather, blighting the sun altogether. 

"She seemed very sweet. Probably a little dull, but one cannot fault her for that."

"Nay, but one can fault Mr. Hyde for choosing a stupid wife for himself!"

"I believe your ill humor is about to bring the rain, pray talk of something cheerful."

"Would that their carriage loses a wheel en route!"

Miss Pinch sighed as fat drops of rain began to fall. 

"It was not supposed to rain; my dearest, I truly believe you control the weather. Those mismatched eyes would have gotten you burned for sure, in King James' day."

"Well, he can go to the devil too."

"It was very bad of you to say we received an invitation to Count Felea's ball. You know quite well no such invitation has arrived."

Miss Pinch found it necessary to shout her rebuke, as the gentle drops turned into a torrent. It was nearly a mile to home, and neither women possessed an umbrella. They both tucked their parsels into their spencers and hurried along.

Not a minute later, the pair found themselves herding near a ditch as a beautifully appointed carriage made its way up the lane. It stopped abruptly, and Jacqueline found herself gazing into the eyes of one of the handsomest men she had ever encountered.

"Forgive my impertinence, but I believe you are Miss Pinch." He addressed the correct woman, his accent was thick; rich with experiences Jacqueline had not yet encountered.

"Indeed, sir. My companion and I misread the weather this morning I'm afraid. May I introduce Miss Jacqueline Burkhart?"

"A name I know well! Ladies, please do me the honor of transporting you safely to your homes."

"That is a Coach."

"It is, Miss Jacqueline."

"I could not leave a watermark on such a fine conveyance."

"Better ruined seats than a ruined constitution. I shan't allow refusal."

The pair soon found themselves quite comfortable within the spacious coach. Count Felea had an amiable grin that never seemed to waiver, and was fairly overflowing with light conversation. He had been on his way to the Pinch homestead to hand deliver invitations to his ball. Miss Jacqueline could not help but feel smug at the news. 

"I feel dreadful about the delay, of course. Preparing for a party is such a dreadful bore, and I've no wife to assist." His dark eyes sparkled as he regarded Jacqueline. 

"I fancy myself an excellent party planner, should you ever feel the need to take on such a task again. I once lodged in that estate, you know." Jacqueline felt not a whit of self-conscious regret at her boast.

"I have heard. I only regret we were unable to make our introductions sooner, else I could have used your keen eye, Miss Jacqueline. Perhaps leading the first two dances as my partner would be sufficient compensation for the regrettable oversight."

Jacqueline could not help but blush. 

"The first dance will do. Two consecutive dances may cause tongues to wag."

"T'would be my honor." 

____

"I told you he was lecherous."

Miss Pinch and Jacqueline sat near the blazing hearth in Miss Pinch's bedroom, the pair in their nightgowns, and wrapped warmly in shawls.

"I saw no lechery at all, I found him very charming."

"You must take care, dearest. You are too governed by your heart."

"I daresay he is as handsome up close as at a distance."

"I found him to be very short."

"Only because you are unusually tall."

Both women read their respective novels in silence. 

"You will behave yourself on Friday, won't you?"

Jacqueline gave an outraged huff as she closed her book. 

"I am always well-behaved!"

"Please."

"I shall be the picture of humbleness. I shall only dance the first dance with the Count, and I will keep well and not remark on whatever ghastly print Miss Smith decides to don."

"Thank you."

  
  
  



	4. Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Test

Author's note:

For some reason my chapters are being added, but the update date is the same as the published date. Please disregard! An actual chapter four will arrive shortly!


	5. Ecossaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Count Felea's ball part one.

The widow Rockwell had not been wearing her weeds long before she realized that solitude suited her very well indeed. She was not completely alone, after all. While her daughter Elizabeth - Betsy, to those who carried affection for her- was a lively toddler, who rarely allowed life to become dull. The pair were situated very comfortably in a large cottage just outside of the village proper, and had enough income from the late Captain Rockwell to employ several servants, and keep a coach. The widow earned a small income as a freelance seamstress, and that was also quite nice.

Miss Jacqueline Burkhart was one of the widow's more regular customers, and she paid well, especially if she arrived with high expectations and a quick deadline. 

"This lace is quite pretty." 

"Very much so. I find myself marvelling at the sweet little stars; such artistry! I am determined to be the most striking at tomorrow's ball. T'is a pity you will not come. The regiment will be there."

The widow blushed deeply as she pinned lace to Miss Jacqueline's dainty waist. 

"I suppose you mean Colonel Kelso. If that is what you mean, then I am resolved to stay in my own home."

Miss Jacqueline began to mention something regarding young Betsey, but the widow cut her off with a touch of harshness.

"Forgive me, Miss Jacqueline, but I shan't be in attendance. I shall never forget your kindness in intervening, nor the great cost to yourself in doing so, but I will do very well at home tomorrow evening."

"I shan't argue with you whilst you are holding pins."

"A blessing."

"T'was a great cost indeed."

"I shan't charge you for the alterations today, and you may expect a new fan before you leave."

"Divine."

______

Jacqueline's former home was very much as it was when she quit it; sprawling, grand, and expertly appointed. Count Felea's party decorations made the ballroom sparkle with life - his preference appeared to be bright blue silks, and silver trimming. Jacqueline admitted to Miss Pinch that everything before them was quite fitting for the summertime, and even commended the Count for leaving all outdoor entrances to the ballroom open to allow for a relieving breeze. The various scents of flora and fauna from the surrounding gardens floated in and all but erased the earthy, sweaty aromas from the crush of guests.

"Tis a fairyland," Jacqueline breathed as she took in many tiny candles that decorated the hall from various perches.

"I was unaware they made candles so miniature. Seems like a waste of money."

"Oh, Miss Pinch! You have absolutely no grasp of fine aesthetics."

Both ladies were extremely handsome in their silks. Miss Pinch had been convinced to don a very fine apple green gown, and her copper locks were becomingly curled and interwoven with blue ribbon and baby's breath. Jacqueline's done-over gown was crimson, as were the ribbons in her hair. The gown showed off quite a bit of high, ivory bosom, and bare arms, in the French fashion. They were accompanied by Sir Robert, who hastily excused himself for the punch bowl once they were comfortably secure on a bench near one of the doors.

"So many turbans this year. I cannot imagine ever covering my glory in something so gaudy."

"I daresay you would opt for a wife's mobcap, should the right man come along."

"I shan't wear a mobcap either."

Miss Pinch laughed heartily at Jacqueline's scandalous admission.

"I do not know why you are so keen on marriage, dearest. A husband may expect to be at liberty to tell you what to do."

"I always endeavour to seek out deep pockets and a weak will."

"Unless that man is Mr. Hyde."

Jacqueline glared at the impertinence of her companion, and then grew pale as Sir Robert returned, flanked by Mr. Forman the younger, and Mr. Hyde, along with members of his party - including Miss Smith. She felt her hand being squeezed by Miss Pinch, and noticed the woman had grown quite pink. Jacqueline did not know why Miss Pinch reacted so; Forman the younger was gangly, slightly ginger, and dressed like a vicar. Both women stood and curtseyed.

"Girls, look at what I've unearthed! Now we've quite the circle for this party. Capital!"

Introductions were hastily made for unfamiliar members Mr. Hyde's party before Sir Robert disappeared into the crowd.

"Miss Smith, that dress is very becoming. How pink it is!"

Jacqueline thought the woman looked exceedingly over-decorated, with her false, yellow curls poking from the front of a pink satin turban, and her rouged cheeks, but she understood the need to be polite. Mr. Hyde's brilliant blue eyes were studying her intently, studying her every move - she assumed it was in order to mete out a weakness or flaw in her delivery.

"Thank you, Miss Jacqueline. You look stunning, like a Duchess!"

Jacqueline laughed suddenly, taken aback by Miss Smith earnestness.

"I am much obliged."

Forman the younger managed to inquire after Miss Pinch for the first dance, and Mr. Hyde did the same for Miss Smith. Jacqueline felt quite snubbed until Count Felea arrived to remind her of her obligation to him, and the thought of leading the party in the Ecossaise cheered her greatly. She made a great show of lively chatter with the Count, and she quite outshined the other dancers until she lost her footing and stumbled a bit when Mr. Hyde's gloved hand touched hers, but no one appeared to take notice.

After the first dance, Jacqueline retreated to the gardens, explaining that she was quite dizzy indeed, and required the open air. Her skin cooled against an obliging statue as she craned her neck to count the stars, a pastime that often helped soothe frayed nerves. The smell of tobacco smoke curled into, and burned at her nostrils, warning her of an intruder.

"You appear cold, and you left your shawl." Mr. Hyde extended an arm towards her, a bundle of ivory silk dangling from his hand. Jacqueline took it with a hushed word of thanks. 

"Are you unwell?"

Jacqueline's eyes widened at the query. She gave a short sigh, but smiled.

"I am in perfect health. I only wanted to be among my flowers again."

"You always were fond of this bit of earth."

"I always shall. This was my home, once."

"Count Felea seems quite fond; maybe it will be once more."

"Excuse me, I am quite ready to return to the party."

Tears stung at Jacqueline's eyes as she made her way back to the ballroom. Her stomach twisted as Miss Smith caught sight of her and waved enthusiastically. 

"The soldiers are here! I do love a man in uniform. I was married to one, a'fore he died." 

Jacqueline bristled as Miss Smith's arm linked in hers, pulling her towards the small gathering of red. She looked around for Miss Pinch, who was deep in conversation with Forman the younger. 

A tall, fine looking soldier turned towards Jacqueline and Miss Smith. His grin was almost foolish when he recognized the pair. 

It was Colonel Kelso.

  
  
  
  



End file.
